to us and those like us
by fiesa
Summary: Sometimes, boxes are just boxes. Other things have to be said. OneShot- Kensi, Deeks. Post-ep for the season 5 finale.


**to us and those like us**

_Summary: Sometimes, boxes are just boxes. Other things have to be said. OneShot- Kensi, Deeks. Post-ep for the season 5 finale._

_Warning: Was supposed to be a drabble. Spiraled completely out of control._

_Set: post-ep to s05ep24 – Deep Trouble, so spoilers for that. You'll notice that I skip straight to the resolution of the case. It's not that I like Callen and Sam less but that I love Deeks and Kensi more… Or something like that :)_

_Disclaimer: Standards apply. Title inspiration from Tess DiCorsi and her fic "Scattered". I hope you don't mind._

_A/N: Oh God this has been done before. Like, many times. So here's my take on the thing._

* * *

They make it out alive.

When the case ends – the catastrophe is averted, the terrorists dead or in custody, the agents-in-charge of various three-digit agencies have taken over and the NCIS team has slipped past Granger who is glaring at them like it's the only language he speaks, which Deeks strongly suspects – it usually is when the paper-war of reports begins. And this time it is the point where Deeks calls it a night (it's five in the morning, go figure) and grabs his bag. He just wants to get home.

"Breakfast's on me," Callen says and Sam perks up.

"Oh, really? I always wanted to try that fancy deli over at the boulevard, you know, the one with the green papaya on its logo…"

"No way," Callen immediately blocks. "That's a _vegan_ place. I need pancakes, scrambled egg and bacon."

"No rations on a narco sub?" Eric comes down the stairs from ops, Nell in his wake. "We'll join you, if you don't mind. I'm starving."

"Hey, what about this Pizza box we saw up in ops when we returned earlier?" Callen frowned. "We get trapped terrorists in a self-made sub filled with explosives, you get pizza, and you want to leech off me for breakfast?"

Nell shrugged. "The pizza's still there, untouched. Help yourself."

"Nah. As I said, bacon's my breakfast of choice. Let's go."

When the cat is out, Deeks thinks, but just waves at his colleagues. "I'll take a rain check on this, guys. I'm beat. Heading home."

"Kens, you coming?" Sam throws Kensi a short glance and Kensi gets up, her reaction delayed about two micro-seconds but Deeks notices, and starts searching for her bag.

"Yeah, give me a minute…"

"See you guys tomorrow, then," Deeks says, ignores Kensi's quick look, Nell's frown and Eric's disappointment and makes his way to his car.

He wonders how Hetty is doing.

In his flat Monty greets him, yelping happily, his tail whipping against Deek's legs furiously. Deeks kneels down to pat him and the dog presses his snout into his hand devotedly. They take a short walk together – because Monty needs it, and Deeks is just the tiny bit too hyped up to be actually able to sleep right away. The beach is almost empty. For a second, he regrets he didn't bring his gear and then settles contentedly for just walking, feeling the cool sand between his toes and throwing a stick – various sticks – for Monty. When they return they are one happy dog and one dog-tired dog-owner.

(Of course Callen and Sam made it out alive. They always do. He just thinks that maybe, _maybe, _one of these days… Or Kensi. And the thought scares him shitless.)

He showers quickly, grabs a bite – not sure cold Chinese take-out qualifies as breakfast but it's that or nothing – and more falls than crawls into bed. He's too tired to even try to keep his eyes open. Deeks is out within seconds: a deep, dreamless sleep. He's not even able to feel thankful for this small mercy.

When he wakes up it is two in the afternoon and someone is banging against his door.

Instinct has him diving for his gun before he even considers slipping on a T-shirt. Monty is sitting in front of the door, whining happily and thumping his tail onto the floor but even without his loyal, stupid dog Deeks would have known whose eyes he meets first when he wedges open the door. Only Kensi has the galls to hammer against a door that has a perfectly working bell next to it. Also, only Kensi would actually _hammer_ when a knock would suffice, and finally, only she would create such a ruckus on a Saturday afternoon. Deeks can imagine the scandalized looks Mr. and Mrs Webb are trading in their plushy retirement home across the corridor. This partner of his has all the finesse of a bulldozer and the subtlety of a M1 Abrams battle tank. Oh, Deeks remembers her meeting with Talia De Campo. Nope, not subtle at all.

Kensi's wearing a v-necked T-shirt, so she's obviously been home. Some strands of her hair stick to her face and look like she's coming straight from the shower. Deeks likes the way the color of her top compliments her eyes and her hair, and how it clings to her in just the right places. He likes the way her eyes light up, before she remembers. Every move she makes, even the faint twitch of her fingers that speak of a habit of fiddling she broke by herself is incredibly, heart-achingly familiar.

"Hi," she says.

"Couldn't you have called?" Deeks asks back and doesn't move from his door frame but she pushes at his door slightly and he gives in, retreating into the corridor and letting her enter his apartment. The door closes with a thump. Monty is all over Kensi but she only pats his head once and sends him away with a few words. Monty, who never gets the mood, tries to nudge her some more and, when she obviously makes no attempt to kneel down, huffs dramatically and disappears into the kitchen.

"What is it that made you come all the way here on a day off? Because I'm going out on a hunch and say it's not an emergency."

"We need to talk," she blurts out, unaware that she has just used _the_ opening line for every bad breakup scene. Or maybe very aware. As it is, they cannot break up what they don't have so Deeks doesn't worry about that. But there is something else in her eyes that has him a tiny bit worried.

Kensi takes a deep breath. No introduction, no nothing. Pure Kensi. Deeks would feel overwhelmed had he not known her for a bit more than four years.

"I get it," she says and cards both her hands through her hair. "This… this thing we didn't have, and then had. Before the… you know, before you were in the hospital, and after that and before Afghanistan. I know I provoked you but for some time I thought it was a mutual thing and now suddenly you – well, you're not – not – into m- into this thing we have anymore. And-"

She's rambling. It's something he always found endearing, the way she seems unable to voice certain words and thoughts. It is the foundation they are built on, actually. Without ever saying it out loud they have agreed on not mentioning some things, and on not naming others. This thing that they have – had – before Afghanistan. They never defined it. Deeks didn't say anything when he handed Kensi back her knife, and the box just held another box, and Kensi took back the knife and didn't say anything. To outsiders it might look like they are able to communicate without talking but both of them know it's just a great load of bullshit. There is no way a relationship can go anywhere when the participants do not at least share something of themselves. And while Deeks would give Kensi everything he has there is just this tiny thing he cannot give away completely: himself.

At least that's what he thought until recently-

"I mean, we're partners and I want us to remain that way. We're good, aren't we? I'm glad you're my partner, and my friend. And it's fine if you don't want to be more than that – it's fine…"

She takes a deep breath and her voice is much more silent and cracks audibly.

"It's fine if you don't, you know, _love_ me or stuff."

Her shoulders slump like she is _relieved_ to have finally, finally used the L-word. And Deeks can't even move.

"But then just tell me, okay? Because I know we've basically said everything that had to be said-"

-Wrong, they said _nothing_-

"But tell me, okay? Please. Because as long as you don't say anything some stupid part of me still thinks that maybe, maybe there is a chance you didn't mean it, I know it's idiotic and silly and childish, but as long as you don't tell me straight that you don't want me there will always be this tiny voice in my head that says that maybe you actually _do_, and that I'm just too messed-up for you to take the step, or that there is something else…"

She stops there, her hair partly obscuring her face, and laughs. It sounds like a normal, surprised Kensi-the-hell-I-don't-really-know-why-but-hey-this-is-funny-laugh. It doesn't sound like a gust of icy wind laden with pinpricks of ice crystals that are burying themselves straight into her heart. Wherever he's taking his screen plays from he has to get a serious update because the Kensi who glared at Monica and Sally and Jenny and Talia is not present in the Kensi that is standing in front of him. No anger, no arrogance, no jealous girlfriend shouting at the top of her voice, tears in her eyes. As it is, it is even worse than he could have imagined. "Oh God, there _is_, someone, I mean, isn't there, this woman-"

And both know who she is talking about.

"No, there isn't," Deeks says before he can even think of it. Too late he realizes he could have used it as a vantage point. Telling Kensi there was someone else – someone in particular, someone both of them knew – would have surely brought an end to this conversation that already is as awkward as it could ever get.

She plunges on and he is not sure she even heard him.

"It's your fault, you know, for never saying what you really mean, but I know it's also my fault for never saying anything. Or maybe even for falling for you like I did. Either way I'm sick of it, so _sick_, so tell me now and for once, because I'll leave it at that. I swear. You giving back my knife was clear enough but now _tell me_, Deeks. Now _say_ what you meant that night. _Damn you_."

And, just like that, she's finished.

Deeks' head is spinning from her words. Perhaps for the first time in his life he has truly, honestly, nothing to say. Kensi just stares at him from across his corridor, half in, half out of the light that shines through the kitchen window and into the small hallway, and she looks like she is about to bolt, break down and scream – all three at the same time. And oh, it's so much like Kensi to waltz into places that aren't hers, to launch into a tirade and to insult the opposing party in one breath, and if it wasn't so serious he'd smile-

Scratch that. Deeks _is _smiling. When he realizes, he quickly schools his expression back into a nondescript mask.

"Why now," he asks her and Kensi's temper flares.

"Because we could have died again yesterday and because you're a freaking asshole for thinking you can just give back my knife like that and because I'm sick of lying in bed alone, wondering what exactly you _meant_ when you did this or said that and how many women you've flirted with while I was gone! I'm no freaking _mind-reader, _for Christ's sake!"

Jealousy as the catalyst? He's so not believing this. Not with Kensi. Also. Pot. Kettle. Black. He wants to throw his head back and laugh.

Deeks holds up his hands in a placating gesture and takes a step back. "Woah, calm down, Kens-"

"Don't _calm down _me! Just-"

"Okay, okay." He lets his hands fall to his sides. "Just let me think for a second, will you?"

Kensi settles back against the door, crossing her arms and glaring at him. And despite her fierce face and the no-nonsense tilt of her chin there is something in her eyes that makes him think of an injured animal: unable to flee, and, for that reason, forced to allow humans to get close to it. When did he block her emergency exits, and when did he do something to make her fear him? No, he corrects himself. Kensi isn't afraid of him. She is afraid of what her feelings for him would mean, and what he can do to her. She has been lied to, she has been left, she has been broken so many times and yet she still is one of the strongest women he knows. So how does it fit, this knowledge, how can he combine such opposing forces like fear and love? Because, when it comes down to it, Deeks knows he is afraid, too. It starts with his father and continues on in a long list, from his childhood over his teenage years and early undercover missions until this day. He has done things that were morally right but humanely wrong, and things that were humanely right but morally wrong. He's broken laws – mostly when undercover, but did that matter? These people, his aliases – they all are a part of him. And _knowing_ something is wrong while still doing it – what moral high ground has he to hoist himself onto? There is little Martin Deeks hasn't done, and little he wouldn't do for people who are important to him.

Like Kensi is.

So what can he offer her? Only himself. His stupid, stupid self. Prone to joking around, to making stupid innuendo, to pissing people off and to getting into dangerous situations. A person who can change who he is within days and who's willing to do things that shouldn't be done in order to save something – or someone – that is important to him. And he just can't say whether it will be enough.

It's not like he never thought of all of this before. In fact, he has never thought about all of this _more _than in the past weeks.

"Kens," he sighs and rubs his forehead. Wrong time, wrong place, everything is wrong here up to the fact that Monty is yapping up water from his bowl noisily, splashing it across the kitchen. "This is-"

"Tell me you don't love me."

And the way her voice is small and raw is so unlike her Deeks wants to-

"I can't."

Her eyes are guarded. "_What_ can't you do?"

"Tell you. Without lying."

First, she is silent, processing his words. Thinking them over closely, analyzing them. Then: "So? Is this just another game of yours?"

"No."

"You know," she says, her voice carefully free of emotion, "I brought these boxes in to burn them."

It's a completely random thing to say and Deeks is appropriately floored. "What?!"

"You said my place was a mess and I had to clean – well, it doesn't matter. But I had these boxes and stacked them, and I thought I'd bring them in and dispose of them here. Recycling and all, you know."

He doesn't know what to say.

"But then you started nagging about them and wouldn't stop, and I figured it was fun letting you get all worked up over them, trying to guess, asking again and again. So I just left them in the office."

"Wait," Deeks says, trying to wrap his brain around her ridiculous story. "But the box was taped close-"

"Okay, so maybe I had the idea before I actually brought them in." Kensi looks like she wants to smile and cry and die from embarrassment at the same time. "It didn't mean anything and it was your fault in the first place because you kept pushing me to clean up my place and I wanted to get back at you. Either way, it doesn't matter." She takes a deep breath. "What I want to say, you know, sometimes a box is just a box, okay?"

"Wow." The silence stretches between them. "And why did you hand it over to me when…" He clears his throat instead of saying what they both know happened some weeks before. "You handed it to me like it was some sort of… Gift," he finishes lamely.

"I don't know." She shrugs, her eyes downcast. "That second, it seemed to mean something. Those stupid boxes I brought in to annoy you suddenly seemed to _make sense_."

He doesn't ask what sense she saw. _He_ saw it, after all. He opened that stupid box and found another one, smaller, taped closed, and everything had made sense and hadn't. Boxes, ice, hearts. Kensi and him. He returned her knife, her box held another box. All metaphorical issues aside, he figures she's pranked him pretty well. How many hours has he stared at the box on the shelf, wondering what was inside, why Kensi would leave it there, how he could sneak a look inside…

Wondering whether he could have her.

Kensi's voice is full of hurt. "You returned my knife. What was the sense in that?"

"There was none."

Deeks settles for it, then and there. He's so fed up with double- and triple-guessing , of wondering, thinking and talking without meaning. He's fed up with doubting himself. He knows he's a good man, but good men don't always make good decisions. What counts – what he has learned long ago, and tended to forget until he remembered it – was that a good man could see his mistakes, and act on them. Didn't let his past weight him down. Didn't make a good woman cry. It is not an epiphany, or a realization from above. It is not a split-second revelation. It is an accumulation of many thoughts and many long nights throughout the past weeks, a sum of thinking, remembering and gathering courage and hope. Deeks is not perfect, never will be. But that's not a reason to let go of one of the best things that ever happened to him, isn't it? After all, Kensi knows his weaknesses and she loves him regardless. At least that's what he understood from her ramble just now. He might want to double-check that, but he's pretty sure of it.

"It was a mistake," he says. "I'm done with subterfuge, Kens. I love you."

She looks like a lightning bolt has hit her, despite the fact that she probably came ready to hear worse. Much worse. And now that this is out in the open Deeks is incredibly, amazingly calm, and the sense of giddiness that suddenly fills him has him practically floating. "Screw it. I'm not going to lie anymore."

Kensi scrambles for words, a blush spreading on her face beautifully, and Deeks really, really shouldn't grin that maniacally otherwise she will think he's completely lost his mind.

"You are amazing. I have no idea what you see in me but I honestly don't care." He thinks over his words quickly. "Well, not anymore, that is. Not more than the average guy. Or, at least, I can live with the doubts."

Her mouth moves, open and close, like a fish. "Oh." Open, close. Then, finally: "Okay." And her voice sounds so small and surprised he wants to laugh out loud. "So…"

She looks everywhere but at him. It is endearing, really. Incredibly sweet.

"I guess I see you on Monday?" It's half a question, half a plea, and she's already fumbling with the door knob and does she really think he's going to let her go now?

If Deeks was a sane, sensible man, if Deeks was anywhere near being in his right mind, he'd let her walk out now. Because this spells trouble. They're partners. Like, _work-related_ partners. They have to be able to rely on each other every second of their day and not only on each other but others have to be able to rely on them, too. There's a reason why there's a no-fraternization policy within the NCIS. They have to be able to work with each other in every kind of situation, from relaxed to dangerous. Whatever they feel; it shouldn't reflect on their partnership because too much is at stake: people, cities. Countries, worlds. Failure is not an option. Deeks has long ago decided that he is what he is for a greater cause, that his own life takes second place behind his calling, and so has Kensi. And if he was anywhere near anything like logical thought and rationality he'd let her go because he knows that their personal happiness comes far behind the country's welfare. But Deeks is anything but sane and rational when it comes to the things that are important to him. He is just a little bit too much in love with this amazing woman, just this little bit too crazy for her. He thinks that maybe he's stupid for complicating things like this, but also that the only things that are complicated usually are the ones one complicates oneself. Deeks is just a little bit too overwhelmed by how small Kensi looks, and how she glared at him despite the obvious hurt in her eyes, and he thinks if he's so far gone it's useless to deny anything, either way. Deeks thinks he's thought of this long enough. The few kinks and troubles he still encountered in his theoretical scheme, he gathers, they will figure out together.

Because that is the way it works for them.

So he moves, makes himself explode into action and grabs Kensi's wrist the second she tries to duck through the door. He tugs her back and slams the door closed with his other hand, trapping her between it and his body.

Words lose any meaning they ever had when he kisses her.

Kensi goes slack with shock and then turns towards him completely, pressing her body against his and wrapping her arms around his neck until they are aligned completely, and rational thought can go-

_Well. _

That might have been the wrong choice of words.

…

"I will try," she whispers later, when the sun slowly dips towards the ocean and Deeks thinks that this is the place he wants to stay for the rest of his life.

"Hmmm?"

"I will try to open up more." Kensi sounds like she has mulled over the words a long time in her head before voicing them, and who knows, she probably has. "I know I'm difficult sometimes. But… I will try."

She never promises things, Deeks thinks and feels a smile spread over his face which he keeps in check. But an effort on her side can only be met with an equal one from his side, and he's more than willing to give. He thinks it over and comes to the conclusion that the one thing Kensi always asked from him came up repeatedly, and that their greatest fights have been about the same thing. And he can see why she would get upset: Deeks has built walls around himself. They are great, reflective ones, sky-high mirrors that show the viewer what he wants to see, the Deeks they think he is. And he has used them well. Just saying what he _means_ – it's hard, it's impossible, sometimes, but it's worth it if it is for her.

"Okay. In that case, I will say what I mean more often."

Her hand presses his in silent gratitude.

Deeks figures he could start with something simple. The simplest thing, actually. "I love you, Kens."

She's quiet, very, very quiet, and his heart speeds up while waiting for her reply. When it comes, though, her voice is steadier than he would have expected, just wavers a tiny bit. Nobody who didn't know her would have detected it.

"I'm in love with you, too."

Deeks ponders whether to twist his neck by leaning down to kiss her, or to change their positions and start something completely un-innocent (again), when a scratching sound at his bedroom door and an accompanying whine alerts him to the earthly needs of certain flat mates.

"Monty," he sights and it is a curse and a plea at the same time. But, he figures, his furry friend has waited far too long.

Kensi slips out from under the covers and smiles at him, in all her disheveled glory, and Deeks has never seen anything more beautiful. "Come on, let's take a walk."

"Wait," he says as he scrambles upright as well. "You don't have to… Do you want to… I mean, are you coming with us?"

"Should I not?" She cocks her head and her eyes gleam this tiny bit that makes it hard for him to think.

"No, no, it's perfectly fine. In fact, Monty would love that," He lifts his voice, "Wouldn't you, mate?"

"Then, let's get going." Kensi grabs her shirt and her underwear and is dressed within seconds. Deeks still stares at her, somewhat dumbfounded. Somewhat overwhelmed. This should feel more awkward, more _we-were-partners-for-more-than-four-years-and-then-more-and-then-friends-and-now-partners-again-and-what-the-hell-have-we-been-doing_. Instead, this feels right. _They_ feel right. She looks back at him, hand on the knob of his bathroom door, and it's amazing how she moves like she belongs here, like it never was any different. "What?"

"Nothing," he says and shakes his head. "I'm just…" He chuckles. "I just realized I am a very lucky man."

"You bet," she says and disappears in the bathroom, and Deeks cannot help the feeling of absolute happiness that envelops him. This could be a happy end, he thinks while he searches for his jeans. This could be the happily-ever-after Kensi would never admit to having dreamed of, the one Deeks would never have seen for himself. Not to mention that he'd begun to think it as impossible for him and Kensi to be anything but partners. Not after Afghanistan. He'd been so messed-up, and Kensi was generally so withdrawn, and maybe they will be at each other's throats within an hour but with the buzz of happiness in his veins it doesn't seem likely right now. A happy ending is exactly what they need, he guesses, and then immediately reverses the thought. _What the hell?_

"Make me dinner afterwards?" Kensi asks as she appears in the bedroom again, pulling her hair into a ponytail, and Deeks can't help but stare before he pulls himself together and clears his throat.

"Anything. We'll have to go shopping, though."

"Fine with me."

When she passes him her fingers touch his, like she is unable to stop herself. Monty is creating a racket in the corridor. Deeks pulls over a sweatshirt and follows her into the hallway, and he is so incredibly, blissfully happy that he cannot contain his smile. The grin that spreads over his face is so wide it almost hurts. Looking back, Kensi catches his eyes, and blushes, and he has never seen anything remotely as beautiful as her before.

Ending? _Hell, no_. They've only just begun.


End file.
